Of What Could Have Been
by Nixi Stasia
Summary: Layton reminisces of a future that has now fallen from his grasp.


**AN: I'm in one of those moods where I really want to write, but I have no idea what. This was the first one that came into my head. You've probably noticed that my ideas aren't the most original by now.**

 _ **Disclaimer: Okay, I'm a part time sales assistant and a full time theatre and literature student. I do not have the money to buy Professor Layton, so it goes without saying... But legal reasons... So I don't own.**_

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Of What Could Have Been

The Professor sat on the same chair he did when Claire had placed that top hat on his head. It had happened just that very morning, but it seemed like an age. After all, in such little time so many doors to the future had closed. The life that the two were beginning to plan together was now gone; lost along with Claire herself. It was more than a door that had closed. There had been a long, winding road that had seemed to go on forever, but really, was so very short. And now, the end of the road had been reached. A wall had been approached. A dead end had been hit.

Looking straight ahead, the Professor found himself staring at the grandfather clock across the room. The same very one which Claire had glanced at that morning before rushing off to work after realising she was going to be late. If only they'd never bought that clock. It was a cheap thing from a second-hand shop that they didn't really need, but Claire had found it appealing. If only they hadn't walked into that shop; if only they hadn't bought that clock; if only she hadn't have spied the clock swiftly approach nine. If only she were still here.

If only their future was full of open doors.

If Claire were alive then that evening would have been the happiest twilight hour either had ever had. It could have been the best, just like every next day surely would have been. That evening they were to have dinner. It would have been to celebrate Hershel's first day as a real Professor, but by the end they'd have one more reason to celebrate. It was her idea to have dinner, but still the perfect time to ask the question he'd wanted to since the day he met her. She would have said yes, of course. Then, they'd walk home hand in hand and wake up early the next morning just to watch the sunrise.

Then the big day would come. Clark would be the best-man and Brenda the maid of honour (the roles reversed from their wedding last year). Maybe their son would be old enough to come to the wedding, too? He would be three by the time it would take to plan such an important day. The Professor's parents would have come to watch from the country, so proud to see their only son happy, and joyful themselves to have such a wonderful daughter-in-law. Claire's parents would smile with pride, too. Maybe they'd finally see Hershel in a good light when he would take their daughter's hand in marriage?

If not, it would still be better than the alternative of them all standing around her grave.

But then there would be Claire, who surely would make the most beautiful bride. Her red hair curled so naturally that it floated around her shoulders enough as it was; the adding weight of a veil would only enhance the curls. The red colour of her locks would contrast beautifully with the green grass that would surround them as they wed (Claire had noted and appreciated how tranquil the outside arena of Clark and Brenda's wedding was). Her smile would brighten up the entire day if it were to rain during the service. Her eyes would shimmer with tears of delight, and her face would light up in radiance.

Though that would be the best day of their life's, there would still be better. One day, surely, they would have had children. Claire had been so good with her niece at a family picnic, and she'd said more than once how "their children would be so lucky to have his eyes and him for a father". Hershel could picture a young girl first, perhaps? With Claire's red hair, and his green eyes as she so wished. She would be full of energy and happiness, for a child of theirs would be loved more than any other. She would love to explore, run and hide. Maybe so much so that she would cause worry; her hiding places during games of hide and seek would be so unique and carefully designed that she would be impossible to find in local parks. But of course, they would always find her. Then a few years later a boy as well. Perhaps Hershel's dark brown hair this time, and Claire's eyes (for she had far nicer ones than him) to match. He would be like his sister, enthusiastic and amazed at the world around him. Then, as he grew, maybe he could take on expeditions with him, to teach him archaeology and show him the ground that the world he knew today was built on.

Over the years, the children would of course grow, but so would himself and Claire. They'd relive their childhoods through their children's eyes, and then watch them grow into young adults. By then, they would be going grey. Although the children would have flown the nest, they would surely come back every weekend for dinner (and Christmas, too, of course). Then one day they'd return home with children of their own, and they would be given the pleasure of watching children grow again.

All of that seemed a step away just hours ago, but no longer was it so. The door had closed. The clock had struck upon the final hour of their future, leaving only the emptiness of what could have been was all that was left.

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 **AN: Reviews are cool.**


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